Times were tough, times were hard
Job after job just left me scarred
Lust for life forever stripped bare
Working for bosses that didn’t care

There was good jobs, and there was bad
Always one eye looking at, the wanted ad
A new job should be as good as a holiday
Not making you wish for a coming doomsday

Years rolled on and I was on a slow descent
Work was just a life support until retirement
Forty years of work had lead me to this
When that bastard sacked me I fell into the abyss

I was getting old, getting tired and easily distracted
But I did find a job to which I was attracted
It seemed a good job and the boss was named Bruce
I found myself at a factory making sweet orange juice

But after just a few days things did become sour
I was caught having a nap within the first hour
I was given a warning and told not to kip
Because it was a workplace not a cruise ship